


Secrets

by absurdthirst



Category: The Mandalorian (TV)
Genre: Body Worship, Cock Warming, F/M, Loss of Virginity, Mando cums quick, Mando is a soft boi, Mando loses his V card, Pining, Riding Mando's cock, Stripping, Submissive Mando, The First Time, Unprotected Sex, Vaginal Sex, Virginity Kink, Vulnerability, blowjob, helmet stays on, reader is horny, touch starved, virgin mando
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-03
Updated: 2020-06-03
Packaged: 2021-03-04 01:34:02
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,009
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24515452
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/absurdthirst/pseuds/absurdthirst
Summary: The reader is sexually frustrated and gets drunk in a cantina. When Mando runs off her potential lover for the night, she gets mouthy and spills some secrets. Mando has his own fears and issues to work through.
Relationships: Din Djarin/Reader, Din Djarin/You, Mando/reader, Mando/you, The Mandalorian (The Mandalorian TV) & Original Character(s), The Mandalorian (The Mandalorian TV) & Reader, The Mandalorian (The Mandalorian TV)/Original Character(s), The Mandalorian (The Mandalorian TV)/Original Female Character(s), The Mandalorian (The Mandalorian TV)/Reader, The Mandalorian (The Mandalorian TV)/You
Comments: 4
Kudos: 338





	Secrets

Did Mandalorians have sex? Were they allowed, or did that also go against their Creed? They had to, right? How else would they get baby Mandalorians? Except for the entire adopt Foundlings thing.

You looked down at the cup that was full just a moment before. Maker, that Bespin Fizz the bartender droid had recommended went down smooth. No sooner had you set the glass down on the scorched and pitted bar top, the metallic non-humanoid came back to refill it again.

Certainly couldn’t complain about the service here in this dusty cantina. It might be because a certain Beskar clad bounty hunter wasn’t death glaring every being within a ten foot radius. Having a Mandalorian hovering over your shoulder certainly put a kibosh on making friends.

Your employer had finally landed on a rock that had a proper mechanic to deal with some of the larger issues that you had been bitching about for months. Things that couldn’t possibly fix with the limited tools carried on the Razor Crest. The crotchety old coot of a Taung had chased you away from his shop, unwilling to let someone else tinker in his space. So you had found yourself here.

It wasn’t bad. Not as seedy and run down as some of the places you had seen. Sometimes it seemed like Mando only visited places that held the scum of the galaxy. But that came part in parcel with chasing down bounties for a living.

It felt good to relax for a bit. Be away from the cramped living conditions on the ship. Be able to breathe without smelling Beskar and blaster residue. Maybe get your mind off of a certain helmet wearing warrior.

It was crazy to want someone you’d never seen before, right? Someone who had never given any indication he saw you as more than a pain in his Beskar mechanic. For all you know, he couldn’t have sex. And furthermore, you had a gnawing feeling that he didn’t want to have sex with you.

As much as he could act like a machine, you had needs. Needs that had been sorely neglected over the past six months. Shoving your hand into your pants in the dark and quickly rubbing your clit until you came while biting the back of your hand to keep quiet wasn’t doing it for you anymore.

There were a few times you thought you’d heard Mando blowing off some steam. Usually in the ‘fresher late at night. Although it seemed like more of a pained grunt, quickly dismissed as him seeing to one of the numerous injuries he seemed to obtain. Maker knew he was probably too self disciplined to even think about taking himself in hand.

Maybe you could get lucky tonight. Find a willing man to take you home and take the edge off the hunger that were starting to put stupid ideas in your head. Ideas like what Mando would feel like in your bed, between your thighs.

By the fifth time the droid had refilled your cup, you were animatedly talking with a decent looking Twi’lek male. His name was Darthan, you’d learned that after he’d bought you the third round of the night. His hand now rested high on your thigh as you laughed at one of his hilarious jokes. His warm fingers making the skin under your trousers tingle with anticipation. You could just see yourself going home with him tonight, especially the way his eyes kept falling down to the opening of your shirt.  
Lost in the idea of finally getting some much needed attention for your needs, you didn’t notice the way Darthan tensed, his hand whipping away from you. Only when he cut himself off, mid sentence did you look up to find he was staring behind you.

“Mando!” You turned to find him towering over your seated form. “How’s it going up there?” Craning your neck, you snickered are your own joke. Fuck, you were funny.

“Let’s go.” The terse words brokered no argument, but damned if you weren’t in a sparing mood.

“Awww, come on. I was just about to go with Darthan-“ You turned to gesture to your newly made acquaintance to find that he’d disappeared into the noisy crowd of the cantina. “Huh…wonder where he went?”

In your alcoholic haze, you failed to notice Mando’s hand moving away from the ever present blaster on his hip. The silent threat he had sent to your new friend. You turned back to the bar, intent on having another one of those delicious fruity cocktails, but a leather clad hand slid credits in front of your glass before wrapping around your elbow and tugging you off the stool.

“Mando!” He didn’t pause as he walked out, ignoring any who watched.

You dug in your heels and tried to wrench your arm away from the steel grip on your elbow. “Stop! I was fine!”

He didn’t stop, continuing to drag you behind him to the ship. “You would have done something you regretted.”

It was suddenly the funniest thing the Mandalorian has ever said to you. Your laughter made him stop, but your gasping comment was what made his visor snap back to you.

“What? Finally getting laid?” You threw your head back and howled. “Feeling something other than my hand between my legs and hopefully think about something other than a stupid metal bucket?”

Drunk, you had no filter. Even when stubbornly insisting you weren’t drunk. And it wasn’t like there were many opportunities for drinking when Mando was always so focused on the next bounty. So he had never discovered your inability to keep your mouth shut once you were inebriated.

That iron grip on your arm disappeared so quickly you almost fell. Not that you were leaning on him or anything. You almost stumbled face first into the dusty streets before you caught yourself.

The look you shot him was ignored, not that he ever really looked at you. It was kind of rude, now that you think about it.

“Let’s go.” The gravelly voice did nothing to curb the flare of annoyance at the stupidly handsome wall of beskar.

“No!” You stomped your foot like a child throwing a tantrum. “You have to ruin everything, don’t you?” The whine was definitely child-like but you didn’t care. “You ran Darthan off, for what?”

That condescending tilt of his helmet made you want to smack him. Judging you in his silence. Not that you had any control of what was falling out of your stupidly drunken mouth. “He would have made a good distraction. He’s not you, but it would have been someone else to think about as I lay in my bunk for the next six months, desperately trying to make myself cum before you can hear me.”

It was funny how fast that visor ripped to the side, and you giggled at the way he rubbernecked. You marched past him, indignant waving your hands around as you muttered under your breath. Not paying attention to the fact that you couldn’t walk a straight line and plowed straight into a merchant’s stand.

As you were wondering how the hell you ended up in the dirt, a shriek ripped out of your mouth as you were lifted into the air and flung over a fucking hard surface. 

“OOF!”

Your head hung down, hair waving as you felt every jolting step. The son of a bitch had tossed you over his shoulder. And was now carrying you back to the Razor Crest like a bounty. The steel pauldron covering his shoulder dug into your stomach and made you wiggle around. Until you noticed the fact that his gloved hands were distressing close to your ass. But from the quick strides and annoyed huff you heard through the modulator, it could have been miles away.

He wasn’t gentle. Especially the way he stalked up the ramp of the ship and unceremoniously dumped you on your cot. You blearily looked up at the man that seemed so unobtainable. The one that you had been having faceless, sweaty, vivid dreams about for months. The man you wanted but would never have.

“I just want to make you feel good.” You whispered, closing your eyes as you burrowed your head into the lumpy pillow. “You deserve to feel good, relax and I could help you do that.”

Silence filled your room. He had obviously walked away, good for that. Silently slipping out of the room to where you were talking to yourself. “Sex is such a great way to relax, to feel better than you’ve ever felt. I’ve dreamed of giving you that, Mando.”

You had drifted off, unaware of how long the boots at the edge of the bed stayed there. His visor tilted down as he watched you sleep. The tightly bunched fists that flexed next to his sides as he quietly stared.

Then he was gone, up to the cockpit. His decision made to leave the planet behind in those moments standing at the edge of your cot. The repairs had been finished. That was why he had come to the cantina, only discovered you flirty and intoxicated.

He hadn’t even consciously thought about threatening the Twi male, his hand had just automatically reached for his blaster when he saw him grabbing her thigh. Fingers wedged between her legs, far too intimate to be mistaken for innocent. He’d been furious, even if he didn’t understand why. But the impassive mask he wore was good for hiding his emotions.

The things she had said while stumbling after him had almost made him choke. He’d never been more thankful for the helmet that hid him from the world. He didn’t think he would be taken very seriously if everyone could see the inflamed cheeks of the “best bounty hunter in the parsec.”

She had basically said she thought about him when she touched herself. Even thinking about that now made his mouth go dry and his face heat up. She fantasized about him. Wanted to sleep with him.

The idea of that made him want to jump out of his skin. He’d never… fuck, it was hard to even admit to himself that he’d never known the touch of a woman. Of any species. He hadn’t exactly made a lot of friends in the Fighting Corps, keeping to himself. And the idea of making himself vulnerable in a public place like a brothel had killed any idea of visiting one.

So the truth was that Din Djarin, this Mandalorian, was a virgin. The only pleasure he had even known had been at his own hand. Normally a very quick and utilitarian affair. A chore to take care of, like polishing and maintaining his armor. Almost regimented, a release of pressure rather than something to be savored. Her comment of wanting to help him feel good and relax had made him harder than he’d ever thought possible.

Y/N was beautiful. She had been with him for over a year. He knew that he trusted her, she had so many opportunities to try and violate his oath to the Creed, but had always respected his beliefs. Her questions had been more to understand his culture rather than rudely blunt like most thrown his way. But to bare himself to her?

People assumed that Mandalorians were fearless, but this made his blood freeze with fear. Strippng himself of his armor, to be the most vulnerable he had ever been in the presence of another since he was a child. He could feel bile rising in his throat at the idea of breaking his Creed by accident.

Technically, he could be bare, as long as his helmet was not removed, his Creed would be intact. He had always felt better when he was fully encased in the Durasteele he wore. The only true Beskar he wore was in the helmet that had been forged for him the last time that he had needed a refit for his fucking head. An ill-fitting helmet was a pain in the ass. Causing headaches and caused more damage when taking headshots due to the padding being thinned.

There were only so many steps he had to think about as they lifted off and exited the atmosphere. Only so long he could distract himself. When they were in hyperspace, Mando stood and went back down to the cargo area. Nervous pacing was unusual for him, but this was uncharted territory. His long strides were silent as he made his way back and forth across the grated floors, his visor peering at the doorway that led to Y/N’s bunk at every pass.

He couldn’t deny that he wanted her. His cock was insistently tenting in his trousers, telling him that he did. As much as he hated to admit not being skilled at something so physical, he knew jack shit about pleasing a woman. What if she had built up this expectation in her head and he was just a disappointment? How the hell would they deal with that? How the hell would he be able to face her, knowing that he couldn’t please her?

Fuck, he was too old to be worrying about something like this. He had never thought too hard about this particular subject. His cape swirled around as he made another pass by her bunk. Would it be something he would need to tell her? The fact that he was woefully inexperienced and had no clue what the fuck he was doing. He knew what to do, of course. He was a Mandalorian, not an imbecile. He just knew from combat and weapons training that practice made perfect and he had zero practice with this.  
Did he want this? Yes. Could he actually go through with it? That, he was less sure of. What if it had just been her rambling while drunk? She didn’t mean a word of it and then he made an ass of himself by doing something stupid. Why did she have to say those things? Put these thoughts in his head? Damn her.

Mando wanted to go shake her awake and demand answers. Make her feel the same gut clenching anxiety that he was wracked with. Even though he wanted to, he wouldn’t. She needed to sleep off the alcohol in her system. When or if he talked to her about her comments, he needed her clear headed. He just needed to be patient.

The first thing you were aware of was how fucking loud the light was. The second was the fact that a Tuantaun had apparently died in your mouth.

You opened your eyes slowly as a strangled groan made you wince. Shhhhhh. You were being too loud. Maker, your head hurt. Those drinks packed more of a punch than you anticipated. Trying to ignore the hum of the lights as they beat into your skull like a drum, you looked down to see that you were; a) alone and b) still wearing what you had been wearing before. You sigh, and hesitantly crawl off the cot to see if you could stand without making yourself throw up.

Punching the button for the door, it slides open to reveal an empty cargo bay. You can tell from the lack of noise and the hum of the engines that you’ve taken off, no longer on a planet but blazing through the stars to your next destination. However, the hyperdrive isn’t engaged, so you should be close to landing.

Stumbling your way to the ‘fresher, you hiss at the blinding white light above the mirror. The creature that looks back at you is pitiful. Sallow skin, sunken eyes that are bloodshot and a tangled nest of hair. Maker, you are never drinking again.

Peeling off the rumpled clothes that smelled like drunken sweat, you turn on the water to the shower and step under the biting spray. The Razor Crest was not a luxury cruiser, and it certainly did not have a large water heater. It was still cold, but it was good for clearing your head and making you feel almost human again.

Until you remembered what you had said. Maker fucking help you, you had actually done it. Spilled the fucking deep secret that you had been trying to hide. You had propositioned the Mandalorian. Right now, you kind of wanted to launch yourself out of the airlock. Your cheeks burned with embarrassment. Getting out of the shower and looking at your reflection to find a horrified look on your face. Stars help you and your drunk-ass mouth.

The ship was still silent and the cargo bay was empty as you darted back to your bunk. Getting dressed in fresh clothes and putting your hair up, you wondered how badly you had fucked things up. You had told your boss that you wanted to sleep with him. Was he going to just ignore what you had said? Decide that he didn’t need a mechanic that got drunk and wanted to get into his pants? Drop you off on a planet and end your time with him?

Your stomach lurched at the idea of never seeing that stupid helmet again. Not watching as he wrestled the bounties into the carbonite. Interpret the subtle body language and their meanings. It was enough to make you want to cry.

After you had procrastinated for as long as you possibly could; you knew Mando had heard you down here; you headed up the ladder to go to the cockpit. Dread building in the pit of your stomach with every rung you climbed. Pausing at the door, just out of the sensor’s proximity that would automatically open and start the painfully awkward confrontation.

He heard you, just beyond this door. You knew that. He always heard you. The idea of sneaking up on him was laughable. All you needed to do was to slip into the cockpit and wait, see if he spoke first.

Even as you watched the door slide open, you knew that wouldn’t happen. Mando didn’t initiate conversations. Rather, he just made a direct comment or gave you an order before seemingly ignoring you.

The leather protested just a bit as the springs gave under your weight. The co-pilot’s seat was where you had spent countless hours in silence with The Mandalorian. But this time was completely different. There was a….tension in the air. His back was to you, but his spine was straighter than you had ever seen before.

The sound of the controls being flipped were the only things heard in the small space, besides the slight rustle of the fabric of his shirt as he reached for them. Making small adjustments to their course. It was something that was unnecessary, but you knew it was a habit for him.

Clearing your throat, you see his shoulders tense up. “Um…so yeah. That drink was a lot more potent than I thought.” The statement ends in a weird chuckle that has you wanting to beat yourself over the head. Stars, you are being stupid.

“I just, uh, want to apologize for, uh, making a sc-scene.” The Mandalorian doesn’t answer, just the slightest tilt of his head. If you had been facing him, it would have been almost mocking. Like ‘Really? Just a scene?’.

The fact that he was so silent, you couldn’t even hear the rasp of his modulator was starting to get to you. Engaging the portion of your brain that was almost as bad as drunk you. Unfiltered rambling thoughts started pouring out of your mouth in a desperate bid to organize them.

“I know I made things weird. I’m sorry. You-you don’t have to acknowledge it. At all. Ever. Just ignore what I said, even if I meant it.” Your eyes widened slightly as the last piece came out. Would you never learn when to shut the fuck up?

Still he didn’t move, didn’t even seem to breathe. He was as still as the old suits of armor you had read about on the history holodisks. Not even the grip of his hand tightened around the controls like it was apt to do when he was thinking of forming a response. Absolutely nothing gave away what Mando was thinking.

You could hear your heart pounding in your ears, your blood coursing through your veins as it rushed to your face. It was as if the silence was amplified and your own body was trying to make up for the lack of response on Mando’s behalf.

Your face burned crimson, even your ears felt like they were on fire. The urge to cry makes your chest tighten as your eyes watered. Of course there was no response from the man in Beskar. He wasn’t going to even speak to you after what you had done.

A slightly hysterical hiccup escaped your mouth as you pushed to your feet. The normally cozy cockpit suddenly seemed claustrophobic in its proximity to Mando. Shaking, you stumbled to the door and disappeared, ready to go hide in your bunk for the next million years, or until you reached the next planet you could disembark on.

You couldn’t know that it felt like he’d been kicked in the chest. His heart dropping at the first apology that had come from your mouth. Certain that you were about to say that you meant nothing by what you had said. That his internal turmoil that had lasted the entire night had been for nothing.

Then you spoke again making his heart stop. “Even if I meant it.” Bounced around in his brain like a blaster bolt. Searing his mind with the irrefutable knowledge that you wanted him. Him. Someone who hadn’t exactly been the easiest to get along with, someone who spent hours seemingly ignoring you. Who had never let you see any portion of his body. You had still wanted him like that.

His nerves were bunched and twisted in knots. Making him thankful he hadn’t eaten. If he had, he would be in the ‘fresher, losing the contents of his stomach. When he’d heard her say she meant what she had said, his mind was made up. It was just now a matter of physically forcing himself to get out of the chair and go to her.

His breathing sped up, making his chest plate rise and fall rapidly as he tried to suck in enough air. The fuzzy feeling of oxygen deprivation made him breathe in greedy gulps of air, even as his body started to heat up. He was about to step into the unknown. Feeling more anxious than he ever had stepping into any of the dangerous situations his profession threw him into. Launching himself from the chair, he silently made his way out of the cockpit.

You weren’t a pretty crier. You were one of those that your face got red and splotching. Eyes swollen and you sounded more nasally than a Gungan. Which was why you were desperately trying to push back the floodgates of tears. So you were just rejected by Mando. Who cares?

Not like you were really attracted to the bucket headed bounty hunter. It wasn’t like you had just ended the one profound relationship you had in the entire galaxy by opening your stupid mouth and teling him things that should have stayed hidden.

Leaning against the hull of the ship as you curled up on your cot, you tried to convince yourself it didn’t matter. You had survived before Mando, you would survive after you had parted ways. You would just make sure to avoid settling on any planet he frequented. Somewhere far far away from his silent presence.

Suddenly the door to your bunk slid open and the man you were trying to avoid for the rest of your life was right there. He practically leapt into the even more restrictive confines of your bunk and froze as soon as the door closed behind him.

He seemed….nervous. You had never seen him shift his feet like he was now. Rocking his weight back and forth as his chest heaved. It seemed like he had just run here, but still he was silent. His visor directed at you and you could feel the weight of his eyes pressing down on you.

“M-mando?”

“Yes.” The word was hoarse as it came from the man. His fists clenched at his sides.

You look at him, confusion written on your face. You hadn’t asked him a question. “Yes? What do you mean?”

Silence. You wrack your brain trying to understand the one word he had just spoken. His meaning behind it. Yes? What the fuck did that even mean? Yes to never mentioning it? Yes to forgetting that you had ever said anything? Now he was just being cruel.

Except….Mando was never intentionally cruel. And he never exuded the nervous energy he was now. Maker, he was nervous. What could he possibly have to be nervous about?

You couldn’t see the pure frustration on his face under the mask that concealed it. The way that his jaw was clenched as he tried to form the words he needed to tell you. His inability to do something as simple as speak made him emit a rough growl.

He growled….at you. Bewilderment coursed through your body as you watched him. Noticed the way that his normally straight and broad shoulders were rounded, slumped in. His posture screamed uncertainty. Almost…timid.

A spark of hope flared in your chest. Mando was never anything if not confident, even when he proclaimed the chances of his plan working weren’t great. This view of him was something foreign. That hope grew as you ventured, “Yes to sex?”

It was whispered. Fear of another rejection made you lower your voice to just the quietest sounds. That didn’t matter. You watched as Mando took a deep breath as his fists clenched before tipping his head down ever so slowly.

You gasped, time suspended for the briefest moment as you realized that he had come to you. Entered your bunk to tell you that he wanted you too. Heat bloomed throughout your body at that dip of his head. That confirmation that whatever was happening between you, it wasn’t one sided.

He didn’t move. Even after you had started grinning. His boots seemingly welded to the metal floor. The silent wall of beskar screamed tension in the way he tightened up. As if he were unsure of what to do next.

You unfold yourself cautiously from the ball you were in, scooting towards the edge of the cot and setting your feet on the floor. The closer you came to Mando, the more his body seemed to tense. As if you were a threat to him, but he knew that wasn’t the case. Maybe that random thought you had dismissed months ago was correct.  
Nervousness poured off of him in waves. You could feel his apprehension vibrating through the air. Fingertips along the seam of his shirt caused him to rasp an inaudible word through the vocoder. You could feel the muscles jump beneath the sturdy fabric.

Stars, Mando was a giant wall of unease. You turned slowly guiding him to the cot. The hesitation before his normally stealthy feet clodded over to the bunk made you form a million questions in your mind. But you were unwilling to cause him any more anxiety. You had promised to make him feel good, and you ached to do just that.  
It was intoxicating, knowing that soon you would touch this fearsome man. That you would know him intimately. Your cunt clenched at the thought of finally taking him into your body and quenching the thirst you had for him. Or make you crave more.

Tapping the steel that covered his chest you asked a silent question. Your eyes expectant as you watch him. Air whooshed out from his helmet as it dipped down again. His hands slowly raised to release the magnetic latches of his armor.

He looked good on your bunk, even as tense as he was. Legs spread as he engulfed the narrow cot. You kept your eyes on him as you slowly started to unbutton the tunic you had slipped on.

His fingers fumbled, your eyes darting to the misstep as the material slipped off your shoulders. There was no breast band beneath your shirt, so your hardened nipples and perky breasts were exposed for his perusal. You felt the scorching heat of his eyes as they raked over you, knowing that he was drinking in the sight of your naked chest. Watched as his knees closed just slightly.

You watched him still as your pants slide down your thighs, watching his helm tip down, following the path of your newly bared skin. Kicking them off, you noticed he held the armor in his hands, transfixed by your nakedness. You throbbed at the fact that you could make the Mandalorian freeze in place. Your clit felt engorged as your thighs shifted together, needing some friction.

You sank to your knees, knelt down between Mando’s splayed thighs. He groaned as you looked up at him through your lashes. Reaching down to remove the heavy boots one by one. He didn’t stop you, letting you start to strip the layers from him as he worked on the pauldrons and his cape.

Running your hands up his legs, you felt every muscle harden and jump under your palms. His thighs turned to steel as you released the latches for his thigh guards. You set them aside reverently, mindful of how sacred they were to his religion. The fact that he was allowing this at all was mind blowing.

He hissed as you squeezed his thighs, leather stripped from his hands as he reached for the hem of his shirt unsteadily. You heard the breath he took before the material inched up to reveal a battered torso and chest. Greedily, you drank in the tanned skin. Marred by scars of past skirmishes, each one beautiful to you as they adorned your Mandalorian. Your fingers curled into the meat of his thighs as you thought about running your tongue over the broken flesh.

He groaned, low and pained. Relaxing your hands didn’t help, the jerk of his helmet told you he liked it. He liked your fingers digging into him. You looked back down again, noticing the tent that was forming at the top of his thighs. Your thumbs moved to the tender inside of his legs, pressing in as they started running up.

Mando was panting under his helm, a moan escaping as your thumbs ran up his thighs and on either side of his hard cock. Trailing up to hook into the waistband of his trousers. The punched out sound he made when you tugged on the material making you meet the mirrored strip of his visor as you waited.

A tremor ran through his body as his hips lifted, letting you drag his trousers over his narrow hips. Maker, his cock sprung out of it’s confines. Turgid and red with desire. Leaking as it bobbed in the cooler air, beckoning you to come taste him.

His swollen length was thick and curved deliciously. You instantly craved him in your mouth and your cunt at the same time. Knowing that he would shred against pure nirvana inside your walls and fill you perfectly. You rocked back on your heels to take in the full view. The Mandalorian, naked and hard for you on your bunk. You could feel the desire between your thighs growing even more.

His cock is twitching as he watches you. You know you must look like a rabid animal, licking your lips in anticipation. You can’t wait any longer. Leaning back in, you settle yourself in front of him making sure to keep your eyes on him. Settling your arms across his thighs, feeling the way the light dusting of dark hair tickles, you reach for him.

You feel the way his body lurches as your fingers wrap around his girth. The tightening of his quads under your arms. Your lips press to the bulbous tip before your tongue darts out to lap at the pearl of moisture beading from the slit. He sounds like he’s in pain. Low and deep, the groan emanates from him. The sheets on your bunk are bunched up into his fist as his other hand slaps indelicately against the back of your head.

You hum your pleasure at the salty taste of him as your tongue flutters around the tip. Hollow gasps reach your ears as you close your eyes to better feel his hot flesh against your tongue. His fingers have sunk into your hair, short nails scratching against your scalp as you lick up and down the length of his cock. Every wet trail your tongue leaves pulls another hot moan from the Mandalorian, louder than the previous one.

Once you’ve licked every inch of his cock, you mouth your way back up to the very tip and look up at him again. His head is hanging down, visor fixed on you. You wink at him before opening your mouth and slowly sinking down on his cock.

Your hand is wrapped around the base of his cock as you push him deeper. The choked sounds he’s making, as if he were swallowing his tongue, are addicting. The stretch of your lips over him as your tongue curls around his rod is making you even slicker. His musky taste is divine on the back of your throat as he hits the back of you.

You use your hand to start pumping the base as you ease off of him. The next time you take him into your mouth, you are quicker, swallowing down his length until he is pushing against your throat. Swallowing around him to let him feel the pleasure of you closing on his cock.

His hips arch off the bed, the animalistic growl sounding menacing through the modulator. You grin slightly as you start bobbing your head, hand gliding up and down the rest of him as you suck his cock. You feel his stomach starting to clench, thighs trembling under you. He’s already close. Looking up again, you feel his fingers dig into your skull as his hips leave the mattress of your bunk and his cock presses deep into your throat.

His stunted grunt is cut off by the gasp, you know that he’s holding his breath as his cock throbs on your tongue. The first pulse of hot seed bursts out and hits the back of your throat, coating it with its thick viscosity. You swallow and swallow and swallow. Mando comes in wave after wave of pleasure as his cum shoots down your throat. His body suspended rigidly the entire time until the last bit of pleasure was sucked out of him.

His body collapses back down onto the mattress as you pull off of him, smug in your ability to render this man a boneless mess. He’s sunk back onto his elbows, chest heaving as he shudders. Your cunt is flooded in arousal, dripping out of your neglected sex to pool on the floor beneath you. The thin threads of the juices still clinging to you as you lift up.

His cock has grown softer, but that wasn’t your next target. Placing kisses along the inside of his thighs, you push them a bit farther open as you roll your tongue around one of the now smaller sacs that hang beneath his cock. His head falls back, a hoarse groan telling you that he liked it. You pull the delicate skin into your mouth and roll it around gently.

You give the other sac the same attention. Listening to his moans as your own need was violently neglected. When you were done, your legs straddling his own pushed his thighs together as your mouth latched onto the sensitive skin on his hip bone. You saw his head come up, but his visor wasn’t directed at your mouth. He was looking between your thighs, and you knew he could feel the wetness that was starting to coat him.

Panting loudly, his hands gripped your shoulders as if he were grounding himself. Your tongue traced a long thin scar, most likely a knife wound as it traveled from his hip to his navel. Your hanging breasts felt when he started to stir again. You ignored the desire to slide back down and suck his cock again as you pressed a kiss to his belly button, dipping your tongue inside. He squirmed under you and your mouth.

You kissed and licked your way across the expanse of skin available to you. Letting your teeth scrape against his hips. Before placing a gentle kiss on the scar you knew came from a blaster bolt four months ago. The skin was still a deeper red than his other scars. His body arched off the bed when you wrapped your lips around a nipple and bit down gently as you sucked. His strangled cry sounded surprised.

Finally, finally your cunt was hovered over his cock. You ground down on him, feeling the hardness slip easily between the folds of your sex to rub agaisnt the sides of your clit. You groaned at the feel of him, of how good it felt. His hands moved to your thighs, grip bruising as he looked up at you.

You still rotated your hips and coated the underside of his cock with your arousal. Letting him feel how wet he made you, how badly you wanted him. His own hips shifted, instinctively seeking your cunt.

You knew he was a virgin. There was no other explanation for his behavior. Your theory was proven and now you were about to sink down on his cock and take the Mandalorian’s virginity. The first tight, wet cunt he entered would be yours. You clenched around nothing at the idea of that. You were beyond the point of no return now, you needed him embedded inside you, filling you up.

Reaching down between you, your hips lifted as you wrapped your hand around his cock and held him steady. You watch him even though you can’t see his face. His shoulders flatten out before arching up around his ears as your cunt slowly sinks down over him. Your moan is breathless as his girth stretches you out and drags against your contracting walls. So wound up that it feels like you’ve been on the edge of an orgasm for hours.

He sounds utterly wrecked under you. Fingers digging in so deep into your thighs it hurts, but it adds to the pleasure you are feeling as your clit hits his pelvis and you are fully seated on him. His legs shuffle restlessly as you lean forward slightly and clench around him. You wonder if his eyes are closed.

Bracing your hands on his broad chest, you start to ride him. Each movement pulls a new sound from the man, needy and fucked out. Your hips rotate, and rock back and forth, pushing his cock deeper into you. It’s exquisite, the feeling of the head bumping against your special little spot, making you shiver at every thrust.

You feel him desperately start moving under you. Clumsily rising up to meet your hips, pulling you back onto him hard every time you sink back down. His own passions rise with every groan and sigh he emits. You are so close, your walls throbbing insistently around him. Sucking him deeper every time you clench, the ache that had been building inside you starting to get painfully close to tipping you over the edge.

It shouldn’t feel this good. The stretch of his cock inside you. It shouldn’t make your entire body tingle with delight and your toes to curl every time he flexes. But every drag of his cock out of your cunt makes you eager to stuff him back inside. Slamming your hips back down as your hips grind against him.

Your own fingernails dig into his chest, making him hiss as you throw your head back at the overwhelming feeling of him banging against that tiny little spot. Every thrust makes you whimper as you reel at the sensations. His hands move up to your hips and he jerks you forward, bringing you down so that your chest slams into his.

Blind instinct has taken over. You groan as his arms lock around your waist, thrusting up into you wildly as he chases another release. Your thighs tighten around his hips, frantically pushing back to meet him, just as determined to come as he is. He spears up into you again and your world implodes as your body locks down. You bare down on his cock, sobbing out his name as your orgasm rushes over you.

Mando spits out your name, gasping it out over and over like a prayer as he pulls you down onto his cock hard. Your tight walls feel him pulse steadily inside you, the warmth of his seed flooding your cunt and making you shiver. His tiny thrusts accompany every rope of cum that he pumps into you. The last sigh he makes before relaxing into the cot is one of pure satisfied exhaustion.

Your body is still tingling, over sensitive to everything as you lay on him. Your hot breath washing over his chest as you fight to regain your breath and sanity. The silence between the two of you wasn’t awkward or tense. More of a hazy acceptance of what had just happened. Spilling your secrets while drunk had led to this moment. Laying on top of the Mandalorian after taking his virginity and having the best fucking orgasm of your life. If he got better with practice, he might kill you.


End file.
